


Banana Poems

by Sauou



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Character studies, Fluff, Love, M/M, Poetry, just drabble poems, steak dinner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauou/pseuds/Sauou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poems about the BBS. </p><p>you sit at the table | nervous | like its your first date but its only dinner..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. steak dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> H2O Delirious and Cartoonz go out for a steak dinner.

you sit at the table  
nervous  
like its your first date but its only dinner

a meal

two plates and two forks and  
your heart  
rapidly beating under your chest as  
he reaches

across the table.

takes your hand  
warm  
in his and smiles at you and suddenly

the world is brighter.

you flush  
with all the words you want to say

things that curl  
beneath your skin inside your smile as  
the waiter approaches

and he is holding

your hand.  
there is nothing else.


	2. Character Studies

**_H2O Delirious  
_ **

.

You used to wake  
at 4am on Saturday mornings  
so eager to move,  
swim, weightless and  
unbound

by anything this world had to offer.

Running  
the two miles it took to make it  
before the pool even opened you were  
standing there  
ready, and waiting.

.

Smoking  
at the back door. Lights turned down  
music blasting  
through the night you were cold  
but your bones have always carried  
a chill inside  
through afternoon rainstorms  
warm summer days  
even, until the world burned  
with heat, blistering sweat  
and still you wore  
the over coat, a soft faded blue jacket  
too thin from so much use  
falling apart at the seams.

.

 ** _Vanoss_**  

.

Concrete in the garage, whispers  
of words you weren’t old enough to grasp.

Terminology,  
technology that eluded you but

the warmth of work lights  
clipped to the hood  
of your father’s car, the faint glow  
cast orange

sunsets that slipped past  
ghosts of daylight  
until you were left standing there  
tired, but eager  
watching  
him work.

.

Slippery slopes  
of ice and fame and  
so many people so many faces  
you like the cold

the way it burns  
stings the back of your neck,

your nose  
until it turns blue and takes  
all sensation away  
worries

everything

but the night sky, and ice  
clear as you can see  
starlight,

reflecting down on you  
open skies  
nothing between you and the earth  
nothing

keeping you from the sky.

.

**_Cartoonz_ **

.

You burn  
the midnight oil, the

light from a television so heavy  
a grown man could crash into it  
and break both his knees.

Both your parents struggled  
to carry it held close  
between them  
to the living room

where you set up your console,  
controllers

wound and unwinding them all throughout dinner  
until they were done  
watching sports or live tv or whatever other  
nonsense

kept you from go karts and barrels  
dungeons and gun fights. All

the lives you lived  
through the round faced screen  
that curved, like a glass.

Static

broken audio from too many loops  
too many  
games, every morning and each  
night

just before bed.

.

Light in your eyes  
every hour of every day and you breathe  
the whisper  
of quality static

in your micophone and  
It feels strange  
sitting so comfortable, free  
from grease and sweat

but nice.  
Like the perfect balance

of steel and (gun)metal  
in your hands a hot  
fire  
burning through the sky 

screaming

whiplash and coiled backlash  
that strains at your shoulder and puts  
a low ring in the back  
of your ears 

until you wake up  
in the middle of the night  
thinking of all the things you thought you heard  
(you thought you said).


	3. hair

**hair  
** _(delitoonz)_

 

“Your hair is getting long again,”   
Cartoonz murmurs as he brushes  
the locks   
out of Delirious’ eyes.

“I forgot to cut it,”  
by way of apology  
(excuse)  
Delirious tilts his head 

just enough  
to see past the soft look,  
barely there sigh,  
and focus on the screen

in front of him

the controller denting his fingers  
as he pretends  
not to notice.

Cartoonz’s hand curling   
through the strands  
too caught up on the boy

in front of him

his knuckles brush against Delirious’   
cheek

(flaming red hot  
burns his fingers)

his eyes are soft, he  
bites the edge  
of his lip

and lingers,

“I’ll cut it tomorrow.”


	4. in the kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delirious about Cartoonz..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asked by Anonymous:  
>  _Imma hit you with a three word prompt. Mac n' Cheese (this counts as one), Dragons, Island._

 

You are standing there  
in an ocean  
alone

in the middle of the kitchen  
with last night’s dishes still waiting  
piled up on the counter behind you

the window pulled half-open  
and in comes the breeze  
the lonely longing  
youngling

you can hear the neighbor’s dog  
crying out

the radio playing  
another _Imagine Dragons_ song

through the room

you’re covered with it  
wearing a coat  
_“It all begins with a look..”_

of What If

and Why Not Me.

(But that’s your best friend  
in the other room  
eyeing up the girls on tv

muted  
their lips move  
and he swears

arm slung over the back of the couch  
calling out to you.)

But you are an island

standing in the middle of the kitchen

holding an open box of macaroni

the pot boiling on the stove and

your hands are sweaty your fingers cramp  
and when did your face get so red  
you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t  
your lungs are scrambling for air you want to laugh it all away  
but your heart is beating 

so hard.

You’ve got drums inside of you

_“Nothing else, nothing less..”_


End file.
